It Was Real
by Hart Matters
Summary: There were many things that he could—and did—stop. Yet, no matter how much he wished it, Ichigo could not stop fate. /[First time I've written for bleach in years. Set directly after the events of Chapter 686.]


**Author's note:** Sitting on a salt mine right now.  
Anyway, I haven't written for this fandom in years, but I HAD to get this out after reading that shit show of a chapter. So I'm absolutely sorry if I don't do these characters justice.  
Here's that closure that we may never get. :")

 **Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Wouldn't have gone through all this PAIN.**

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Ten years.

It had been ten years since the death of Ywach; since the possibility of the world of the living and the Soul Society uniting. A possibility in which a certain red-headed teenage boy stopped. Ichigo Kurosaki was able to stop many things: from his father's loving—yet embarrassing—antics, Rukia's execution, all the way to the world's destruction. There were many things that he could—and did—stop. Yet, no matter how much he wished it, Ichigo could not stop fate.

Ichigo sat up in his king sized bed, back hunched over as his elbows rested on bent knees. He stared at the color of his sheets, a familiar shade of purple. He took a moment to soak his surroundings in. Shutting his eyes, Ichigo ran his hands through his hair in frustration and eventually got out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floors of his house. Downstairs, he can hear singing. His wife must have woken up before him in preparation for a get together for his long time friends.

The man goes through his everyday notions, brushing his teeth, taking a shower, dressing up for the day. He's back in his room, one that he shares with his wife, sitting on the edge of the bed. He picks his phone up from the nightstand, glancing at both the time and the date.

"Ten years... " It is the first thing that leaves Ichigo's mouth that morning. He knows what this day is. He knows why it's important. He also knows why he doesn't go to the Soul Society that day. Ichigo stands up and stuffs his mobile device into his pocket and heads downstairs to find people already in his home.

Ichigo finds his wife, whose hair mimics his own in color, in the kitchen, stirring a large pot. Keigo is sitting next to Tatsuki on the couch, eyes glued to the television screen. Suddenly, his whole attitude perks up, hearing the doorbell. He picks up his pace, determined to be the one to get there first; to greet his guests.

And when he does, he smiles. He sees his best friend—no; his soulmate, standing there in her gigai and it's like Ichigo is seeing Rukia for the first time again.

Their get together was filled with laughter, recalling of memories, and gratitude for one another that they are able to be with each other that day. Ichigo's son is bantering with Rukia's daughter, and they can't help but give a soft smile in their direction; both littered with a sadness that is lost to the eyes around them.

Renji, the man sitting beside Rukia lifts up his cup in a toast. Orihime, the woman beside him raises hers afterwards. Soon, everyone does the same, glasses and cups held high in the air. "A toast! To Rukia and Ichigo, where would we be without them?" The two recipients of the toast glance at each other and are the first to down whatever liquid their cups held. They put up smiles, they bite their inner cheeks, they both have their arms around their significant other's and children.

It's nearly one the morning when they're finally alone. The two left the loud party in the Kurosaki home to take a walk, neither of them are saying anything. Really, neither of them know where they are going, but just like they were in sync their entire time of knowing each other, they find themselves by the river. They sit in the grass, staring at the moon's reflection in the flowing river below them.

"Your hair's gotten longer since the last time I've seen you," Ichigo was never good at small talk.

"Yeah…" Rukia was never one to put up with his small talk.

There's a silence between them, and while most in the past were comfortable, this silence held a tension that could be cut with a knife. If silence had a reiatsu, it definitely would have put Ichigo's to shame.

So, Rukia attempts small talk instead, maybe it'll be more natural for her. "Kazui's doing well, i see."

Unlike Rukia, Ichigo humors her. "Yeah, he's growing every day. Soon, he'll catch up to you, Rukia."

"Judging by his father's height, I think that won't be a problem for that little guy." Rukia chuckles this time, her eyes glancing towards Ichigo's direction.

He catches it, but refuses to look back. He could sense her avert her eyes away from him. He doesn't speak, he doesn't know what to say.

"He looks more and more like you each time I visit." Rukia adjusts herself so that she's sitting with her legs straight out in front of her, hands in her lap as her fingers fumble with the hem of her dress.

He scoffs. "No."

She winces.

"He doesn't. He looks just like Orihime. If we let him grow his hair out, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference." He leans back on his hands and this time he looks at her, a lopsided smile on his lips. "Well.. okay except for the… you know."

Rukia looks down at her hands, a smile gracing her lips. She lets out a soft laugh and nods.

Ichigo presses on. "But Ichika, she…" His voice trails off.

Rukia nods, a gust of wind coming by to sweep up her hair, now way past her shoulders. "She does. Renji and I get that quite often."

Ichigo takes a large inhale of breath and slowly lets it out. The tension is still there, he can feel it. He wonders if the rest of their night will be like this, but his thoughts are answered when Rukia breaks the silence once more.

"You didn't come." Rukia's voice held that assertiveness that it was known to have, but it was a lot softer than usual. In fact, the words came out very slowly, a pause between each word. She wasn't asking a reason for why he didn't show up to her Captain Ceremony, she was just stating it as fact.

Ichigo's jaw clenched as his gaze became stern. He was staring out into the sky now. "No. I didn't."

" _Why_?"

The tone of her voice surprised him. It was a stark contrast to what he had been used to. She was pleading, begging for an answer. When he looked behind him towards her direction, she was staring right at him. Those violet eyes of hers staring directly into his soul. He tore his eyes away, as if had she looked at him long enough with those eyes of her, he would crumble at the seams. He stood up and crouched down, picking up a rock and chucking it into the river. It sank.

"You know why."

When she didn't answer, he continued, as if he felt like he had to explain himself.

"Rukia, this life that we're living? It's not the one I would have wished for," Ichigo stuffed his hands into his pockets, something he would have done as a teenager. "It's not fair." He paused to purse his lips together, trying to vocalize his thoughts. "I mean, yes, I have a loving wife whom I do love in return, a wonderful child that she's given me, a great life, but… It's not the path I would have chosen to take. Rukia, I _wanted_ to be there, you have to believe me. I just…"

Rukia stood up, taking a couple steps forward to stand beside him. She looked up at him, those same violet eyes peering into his soul.

Ichigo breathed in again, letting it out through his mouth. He gathered his thoughts before he looked down at her. "I always knew you'd make Captain."

She smiles at this, a small somber one.

"And I've always wanted to be there, but I _never_ wanted to be there like this. I didn't want to be there as just a _friend_. I didn't want to clap and smile and shake your hand. I wanted to hold you, and congratulate you with ways that only you and I would understand. I wanted to look at you as a captain I knew you'd become, and be proud—"

Rukia cuts him off. Her voice is assertive again, its low and harsh, but at the same time fragile, like she's forcing her words through her teeth and clenched jaw though it's coming off shaky. "You can still do that! You can _still_ be proud of me!"

Ichigo takes his hands out of his pockets and turns his whole body to the side to face her. Her shoulders are shaking, her fists are clenched. He offers her a smile, the most genuine he could give her. His long arms pulls her close to him until she's pressed up against his tall frame. He has his fingers in her hair, calming her down the way he knows to do best. After a moment her fists release and her body relaxes. He takes a step back and places his arms on her shoulders. He crouches down only slightly, bending at the waist.

"I _am_ proud Rukia. I don't think I've ever been prouder." Ichigo's voice is barely above a whisper. These words are only theirs to hear. When Rukia tries to avoid his gaze and looks at her feet, his large hand lifts her chin up gently. They're looking at each other with looks only reserved for them. "I have been able to stop things that were beyond my control. I've been able to defeat the supernatural," It's here that Ichigo's voice shakes. "But there is one thing that I have never been able to stop no matter how much I've wished I could and that is the course that Life has set for us."

Rukia continued to look up at him. This time, she couldn't look away, she didn't want to. Not even when the tears fell from the corners of her eyes. "Why, Ichigo? Why does it hurt so much?"

Rukia crashed into him, her arms encircling his waist. Her whole body shook as she sobbed loudly into his chest, tears soaking his shirt. She hadn't wept this much since Kaien had died, but if she were being honest, Rukia had been holding onto these tears for nearly ten years. In each tear that fell, she let go of the could have beens, the would have beens, and the what ifs. She let go all of the resentment she held for him; how she secretly felt such an anger towards him for living his life without her. She knew now that he had felt the exact same way and that there was no one to blame but Life and it's course.

For a while, they stayed like that, until Rukia pulled away.

Ichigo wiped away the tears on her face with the pads of his thumbs. He cared not for his own tears freely flowing. He gave the small woman—his soulmate— in front of him a smile, one laced with both happiness and sadness; a bittersweet closure for them both.

" _Because it was real, Rukia._ "

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 **Author's Note:** Yup, still salty. Saltier than the tears that ran down my face while writing this to be honest with did you guys think of that ending? I would have preferred if things were just left open ended in terms of ships. Maybe they could have tied up a couple dozen unanswered questions.

Ah whatever. What's done is done and now we live on through fanfiction, amirite?

Hope you enjoyed this one!


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